


False Origins

by starlitkisses



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fake AH Crew, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-18 08:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11287794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlitkisses/pseuds/starlitkisses
Summary: How a handful of criminals came together and eventually turned a city into an empire[Origin story compilation]





	1. Business and Pleasure (Jack/Geoff)

“And will this visit be business or pleasure?” The nondescript hotel clerk smiled blankly at Jack and Geoff.

“Maybe a little bit of both,” Geoff smirked lasciviously as Jack nearly choked. “Thank you, sir, and have a lovely evening.”

Leaning her back against the elevator, she threw a sideways glance at Geoff as he got in beside her. "Was that completely necessary?"

Shrugging, he handed her a key card while punching in the floor number. "We _are_ undercover as a married couple, besides," he smiled a little wistfully, "I've always wanted to say that."

Jack snorted, fingers tracing the handle of her suitcase. She'd packed light for this trip, a single change of clothes, basic toiletries, and her various guns. The case director specifically mentioned not to cause a scene when apprehending the drug dealer, so silenced weapons and possibly a sniper rifle would have to do. That or a knife and luck because she has never been one for hand-to-hand combat. "And you will be partnered with Mr. Geoff Ramsey," the director had said days before they embarked on their mission, "while he can get flustered at times, he's excellent at planning, improvising, and close quarter fighting." 

'He's just a big softie though,' Jack thought to herself, smiling as he held the door to their shared hotel room open for her. "So did you want to shower first or...?" her voice lilted and Geoff's heart may have skipped a beat.

"I'll set up a little bit so go ahead and shower first," he waved a hand nonchalantly, taking his laptop out and setting it next to his own gun storage case. As Jack gathered her toiletries and closed the door behind her, Geoff got to work. When the director called him in days ago, he had already been elbow deep in government files, specifically cases and investigations that had been dismissed by higher level officials trying to cover their tracks of corruption, corporate greed, and other less savory crimes. "What do you mean _'play nice_ '? I don't need you to play matchmaker, old man," he grumbled fondly before accepting the mission.

After some time rereading the parameters of the job and double checking that the target had already checked in, Geoff leaned back in his chair to rest his eyes. He dozed briefly. The quiet of the room and the white noise of water running relaxed him. "Geoff?" Jack's voice called from the bathroom.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, already getting up to check on her.

"I think I forgot to pack pajamas," she confessed sheepishly. Geoff froze, already halfway across the room. "Do you have another set I may borrow?"

Snapping out of his daydream because _get it together Ramsey now is not the time to fantasize about a coworker_ , he doubled back to grab his pajama shirt and knocked on the door. "Here," he said, holding the shirt to the crack in the door while looking away.

"Thanks, Geoff," she said a note of embarrassment in her voice. The door closed once more and Geoff wandered back to his computer. Before long he was back to reading government reports and making a list of officials that let innocent civilians die, whether through unnecessary war, health bills, or militarized police units. His blood roared in his ears loud enough that he didn't hear Jack tell him the shower was available. "Geoff?" she asked, looking over his shoulder. "What is all this?"

He scrambled to cover up the screen. "Nothing!" he exclaimed, trying and failing to block her line of vision with his body. When she continued to read past him, he sighed in defeat and pulled the chair out for her. "It's just, uh," he began, mortified that he'd been caught off guard, "You know how the government is a cesspool of for-profit assholes trying to con the common man. Well, I've been working for the FBI for over a decade now and I just..."

"I wanted to make it a better place, from the inside out," he confessed, sitting on the bed and looking down at his hands folded in his lap. "Going into the job, I thought I could make a difference, rise in the ranks and better the community with my work." His expression grew hopeful before darkening once again. "But the closer I get to exposing those _assholes_ , the more doors get shut in my face and my supervisors stop me every step of the way." He'd grown weary and maybe a little cynical. If this was how the system was, allowing the highest bidder to do as they pleased, then maybe he'd have to tear it down another way.

Just as a new idea was forming in his head, Jack interrupted his thoughts with, "I want to help you." She said it softly, but her conviction rang out. "I don't know what you're planning and I don't know how we're going to do it," she smiled when she said _we_ , "but I believe in what you stand for." There was a pause as he absorbed her words. Her cheeks flushed, feeling the magnitude of her words and the implications. 'This is treason,' she thought to herself. 'But this is for the good of the civilians.'

Geoff chuckled and Jack tried her best not to flinch. Maybe this was a test of her loyalty and she just failed. "You're a good kid, Pattillo," Geoff smiled. "Let me pull up all my findings for you to read while I'm in the shower." He leaned over her, clicking away at folders on the laptop, entering various alphanumeric passwords, before he gestured at the screen. "All yours, if you're serious."

Nodding with determination, Jack began scanning the documents as Geoff grabbed his things to shower. "Geoff?" she called, turning in her seat. "Do you think we can do it?"

He paused, ideas swirling in his head. Here he was, this senior agent who swore allegiance to the Constitution nearly twelve years ago, who would live and die for his ideals and for the protection of the innocent and helpless. A man who slaved away at his job, trying to make a difference in society and maybe, just maybe, have a legacy worth remembering.

"Yeah," he breathed out. "I think we can do it." He smiled at her once, a sincere and _hopeful_ smile, before closing the door to the bathroom.


	2. Close Calls, Closed Doors (Dan/Gavin)

Blood splattered on the cement of the alleyway, illuminated by the streetlights but distorted through Gavin’s hacked security camera lens. He felt his heart in his throat, already moving to grab his gun and run to Dan’s side because damn the mission and damn the rewards.

“Stay down, B,” Gavin said over the comm. He reached for the door to the office building they were currently trying to rob. The main office of an insurance company that defrauded millions of Britons. Good, innocent people unable to afford basic accommodations like housing or healthcare. With their combined skills and goals, maybe they could give the money back to the people. With Dan being drafted into the military in less than a week, they had to.

“No!” Dan roared, clutching at the bullet wound in his abdomen. Blood already began pooling under him as he scrambled against the wall to avoid the onslaught of bullets. “Stay there and finish it,” he commanded, voice becoming strained.

Gavin’s fingers twitched - torn between saving his best friend’s life and saving the lives of countless people who will never know him like his dear Daniel did. A second passed and Gavin shouted his frustration, going back to the terminal to finish uploading all the data and publishing it for everyone to see. A record of injustice for the public to do with it as they will (and there was no way to shut it down).

His vision blurred slightly, hearing Dan’s ragged breaths and scattered gunfire. Dan, on the other hand, had taken shelter behind a dumpster and was trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was losing consciousness. ‘This isn’t a bad way to go,’ he thought to himself. ‘Gavin’s safe and we’re doing something good.’

…

When he came to, Dan was in a white room. There was a steady pulsing in the monitor next to him, at least three sensors attached to his body that read his vital signs.

He looked around the room, searching for some form of communicator to check on Gavin. “Hey.”

Speak of the devil… “Hey, B” Dan replied, a sense of relief flooding through him. He stretched his arms out, searching for the familiar warmth of his best friend. “Hey, Gavin Gavin Gavin,” he murmured, folding the younger man to his chest.

“Daniel,” Gavin’s voiced cracked and tears pricked at his eyes. “I watched you bleed out.”  
Dan was stricken, his hands started shaking as he held Gavin tighter. The heart monitor picked up and before long, a nurse knocked on the door. “Sir?” she asked tentatively. Gavin scrambled to open the door for her. “Mr. Richards, is everything okay?”

“Just lovely, thank you,” Dan said gruffly, giving Gavin a sideways look. ‘Richards?’ he thought.

“My partner and I have some catching up to do, so if you please,” Gavin put on an award winning smile and the nurse smiled back before exiting the room. As soon as the door closed, he turned back to Dan, brows furrowed and nervously chewing his lip. “Dan,” Gavin cradled his friend’s cheek in his hand. “Lovely, lovely Dan I…” Gavin trailed off, “I was so scared I lost you.”

His shoulders bunched, a sob building in his chest before Dan pulled Gavin in for a hug once again. Quietly shushing him, Dan carded his fingers through Gavin’s hair to try and calm him down. It took a good while of them sitting like that, Dan in his bed and Gavin leaning over the edge. For as long as they’ve brushed with death, Gavin was always afraid of losing his Dan. “Gavin,” Dan’s voice cut the silence. “I need you to listen to me, B.”

“What’s wrong?” Gavin asked immediately, smushing the heel of his hands against his eyes to wipe the tears.

“I think we did it,” Dan smiled crookedly.

“We did something good--” Gavin began.

“--but now they’re going to be looking for us,” Dan cut him off. Taking Gavin’s face in his hand, Dan looked urgently into Gavin’s eyes. “I can get deployed far away and they can’t get me...”

“But I’m not going to lose you,” he finished, tears rolling down Gavin’s cheeks and down Dan’s fingers. “I can get you out, to America.”

“There’s nothing for me there,” Gavin pleaded.

“It’s safer. I can ask a friend; his name’s Burnie,” Dan continued, conviction growing in his voice. “He’ll keep you safe. With your genius at the keyboard, he’ll make sure you’re protected.”

Gavin wiped his nose with the back of his hand, choking down the sobs in his throat as he tried thinking of another solution. He wracked his brain for something anything that could get them both out of the country together. “Why can’t you come with me?”

“You know why, B,” Dan smiled ruefully, “we can escape the police but we will never escape MI6.”

Harshly sucking in a breath, Gavin tried to collect himself for Dan’s sake. His lip wobbled but he managed to meet Dan’s eyes. “Okay.”


	3. Concussive Bass (Meg/Ryan)

~~Rewatching Free Play to get in the Turnwood mood~~

His heartbeat aligned with the bass of the song, watching other twenty somethings twirling on the dancefloor. “I’m in position,” he murmured, leaning his back against the side of the bar and sipping at his diet coke.

“Almost there,” his partner whispered back. She cut her way across the crowd, seeming like any other dancer. Every once in awhile, she retreated back a safe distance, casually keeping the target in sight. “Jon, I need you to find a new route; he’s on the move,” her voice crackled over the comm.

There was rapid clacking before he responded, “Ryan, I need you to get to the side door. Meet up with Meg and await further instructions.”

Downing his drink, Ryan began making his way to the hallway leading to the side door when Meg clumsily collided with him. She twined an arm around his shoulders and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I’m being followed,” she said, false smile on her lips.

Nodding his understanding, Ryan threw an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. “Bodyguard or overenthusiastic stalker?” he asked, whispering into her hair and swaying with the beat.

“Stalker,” Jon confirmed, swiveling the security camera to note the man’s drunk demeanor. “Do not engage; you’re too close to the target to risk giving yourselves away.”

They rounded the corner and, throwing a sideways glance at Meg, she nodded in agreement before Ryan swept her in his arms and pressed her to the wall. She gripped his shoulders, theatrically throwing her head back and exposing her neck to his teeth. Her legs locked around his waist, leaving her hands free to roam his body, tracing the hard lines of his muscle. When the stalked turned the corner, his eyes went wide, suddenly less interested. “Fuck off, buddy,” Meg snarled, throwing him the middle finger for good measure. Once he backed off, Ryan immediately relaxed; she felt the tension go out of his shoulders. “Wait, where do you think you’re going?” she let an amused smirk cross her lips as Ryan moved to let go of her.

“Huh?” Ryan managed before Meg’s lips crashed into his. Her hand curled around his chin and he opened his mouth to hers. He felt blood rising to his cheeks and other less convenient locations before she acquiesced and unwound her legs from his waist. He may have short-circuited for a second.

“So…” Jon trailed off, “when you two are done, you can make your way out the door and take out the two security guards on the way.”

“And the target?” Meg asked, wolfish grin slowly deflating.

“In the room to the right of the staircase.” Jon paused as he reconfirmed with the security cameras. “One guard by the door, three surrounding him.”

Ryan and Meg nodded at each other, a silent language all of their own. At the door, she gave a silent countdown before pushing the door open and stepping back to let Ryan charge ahead. She dashed after him, letting him take the first guard as she vaulted over him and threw her weight against the second guard. Her knee collided with the guard’s chin; his gun went flying in the air. She unsheathed the knife at her hip and finished him off as Ryan snapped the first guard’s neck. “You get door; I’ll get guard,” she panted, sprinting up the stairs.

He shouldered the door open, making a beeline for the three guards protecting the target as Meg slid to the ground, knocking the guard by the door to his feet. She drove the knife into the man’s thigh as she sprang up and put him in a headlock.

Ryan, on the other hand, knocked one bodyguard through the window. One drew a gun and fired, shot going wide as Ryan knocked the gun out of her hand. With a solid kick to the abdomen, she went down. Just as Ryan turned, a knife came sailing past him, impaling the last guard. Ryan turned to find Meg’s outstretched hand and the unconscious guard underneath her.

Her eyes went wide before the target rushed her, shoving her backwards where her head collided with the wall. There was a resounding crack and shout of pain before Ryan was moving to get to her. Just as the target raised his fist, she knocked his hand to the side and Ryan grabbed him, throwing him over his shoulder and yanking his arm out of its socket. He was shaking with rage as he fired three shots into the man.

“Meg!” Ryan exclaimed, reaching for her and resting the gun in her lap. His eyes searched her for any injuries other than the various bruises and blood trickling from her nose and mouth. “Jon we need an evac and medic,” Ryan’s voice was harried, cradling Meg in his arms as gently as he could before making his way to the door.

Before he could get there, a gunshot rang out behind him. He looked over his shoulder, the guard Meg incapacitated initially crumpled to the floor again as the smoking pistol in her hands dropped. “Got your back,” she mumbled, brows furrowing in pain.

“I’m right outside,” Jon said. “Our employer sent out his medic and is expecting us.”

When they made it to Jon’s van/control station, they sped off. “Meg, please stay awake,” Ryan yanked off his jacket to pillow her head. “Is anything broken?”

She barked a laugh. “My dignity, maybe,” she joked, but the grimace on her face gave her away. “But really, no other major injuries,” she confirmed.

“Jon!” she called to the front seat, eye twitching as the volume of her own voice made her head throb. “We better get paid.”

Jon let out a strained laugh, taking a left a little faster than necessary. “Oh yeah, I already sent the footage to our employer,” the car skidded to a stop, a familiar neon sign greeted them as Jon opened the side doors. “He transferred the money and --”

“Move,” Andy commanded, rolling a gurney up alongside the van. He and a young woman gently set Meg on the cart and rolled her into the clinic.

“Good to finally meet face-to-face, Jon,” another man walked slowly towards Jon and Ryan. “I assume this is your associate, Ryan the Vagabond?”

“Who are you?” Ryan demanded, a little too unnerved that Meg was whisked away and the man already knew their names. Jon’s shoulders bunched, not comfortable with being in the field.

The other man smiled a little too sharply to be welcoming. “My name is Geoff Ramsey and I’m the man who hired you.”


	4. Networking (Burnie)

“Legacy,” Burnie began, slight crackle in his words as the microphone warmed up. “What brings us here today is our legacy. We’ve grown so much since we started out as a group of five teenagers just trying to make a difference in the world,” Burnie tipped his champagne flute toward his fellow stagemates. “And now, here we stand as the forefathers of the Roosters. At the pinnacle of our operation, we celebrate years of camaraderie and sacrifice.

“Let us take a moment of silence to remember our fallen brothers, sisters, and partners who gave their lives to make all this possible. They will be remembered, immortalized, in our hearts and our memorial.

There was a pause as everyone’s heads bowed slightly. Jack and Geoff stood side-by-side, hands clasped in solidarity.

“While there have been bad times behind us, I want us all to stand strong together and keep moving forward,” Burnie’s voice cracked slightly before continuing.

“I would like to end this speech with a quote from our dear friend Monty Oum: _‘I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death.’_

“Thank you, everyone,” Burnie toasted the crowd, which applauded vigorously.

As he stepped off the stage, Burnie and Matt held each other tightly. Geoff couldn’t tell what they said, but they both came away teary eyed. “Let’s go up and congratulate him,” Geoff murmured to Jack, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“That was a lovely speech, Burnie,” Jack smiled, pulling him into a hug.

As she pulled away, Geoff clapped him on the shoulder, shaking his other hand. “Yeah, it was damn beautiful.”

Burnie chuckled, eyes crinkling in happiness. “Thanks for coming all the way out here you guys; I know it’s hard to get away from the city every once in awhile, but don’t forget that you both are always welcome in Austin,” he waggled his finger suggestively. “Unless both of you are too _tied up_ to visit family?”

Geoff’s cheeks flushed, leveling an accusatory glare at Jack. “You told him?”

“I sent him pictures,” Jack laughed into her hand. “It’s not often you fall asleep mid-interrogation with a rival gang.”

When she angled her phone towards Geoff to show him the picture in question (a still shot of a security feed from when Geoff was captured and interrogated before Jack and Ryan busted him out), there was a shout and a crash at the buffet line. Burnie groaned, “oh no, is that --”

“GAVIN!” an angry voice yelled before there was another crash and two men hit the floor, wrestling. “YOU MOTHERFU-- hi Burnie!”

“Michael, why are you trying to murder Gavin?” Burnie crossed his arms, doing his best impression of a disappointed father.

Jack and Geoff peeked around Burnie’s shoulders like an angel and devil. “Wait, Michael and Gavin?” Geoff asked. “Are these the new hires you’re giving me?”

Burnie looked over his shoulder, grin matching his natural sunny disposition. “You’re right. Gavin, Michael? Can you get up and meet your new boss?”

They dusted themselves off, still throwing playful glares at each other as Gavin extended his hand. “Gavin Free, at your service,” he smiled like the cat that got the canary.

Geoff looked askance at Jack. ‘Reminds me of Joel,’ he thought.

Jack nodded. ‘Exactly like Joel.’

“I’m Michael Jones and what do you mean ‘new boss’?” Michael directed the question at Burnie. “I have one Boss and that’s you,” he mirrored Burnie’s disappointed father look and Burnie couldn’t have been more proud.

Ruffling Michael’s curls, Burnie sighed and said, “I know, Michael, but I think you’re going to have more opportunity with Geoff and Jack. I trust them and they’ll teach you what I can’t.”

Gavin choked on his drink before asking, “Wait, you’re not dying are you?”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Burnie moved to ruffle Gavin’s hair now. “I’m not dying, just thinking of settling down here in Austin,” he said. “Geoff, on the other hand, is going back to…?”

“Los Santos,” Geoff said. There was a gleam in his eye, one part knowing, another part scheming. “We’re going to make that city our bitch.”

Michael stared in awe for a second before bursting into laughter. “Okay yeah, whatever you say...boss.”


	5. Ring Out (Gavin/Meg/Lindsay/Michael)

“Come on, pretty boy, that can’t be all you’ve got?” Meg taunted, sweat dripping down her face. Her smile was tired but smug as all hell and Michael was torn between murder and something a little less acceptable in a boxing ring. “Hey Linds!” she called.

Lindsay stopped, mid tumble, rolling on her shoulder to deflect her weight. “Yeah?”

“If I kick your husband’s ass, can I marry you instead?”

Gavin squawked in indignation, jumping off from the high bar and rolling to Lindsay’s side. “But Meg,” he whined, “I thought you were going to marry me!”

Meg laughed, a rich sound that the trio stopped to listen to. There’s a reason she was called Los Santos’s Siren - utterly bewitching with her charms or wits or voice. Maybe everyone was a little in love with her, but honestly, it was hard not to be. “I love all of you; don’t worry,” she assured.

Everyone’s attention was pulled to Michael as he got up from the floor of the ring. He let out a single chuckle, something harsh and explosive not unlike himself. “I love you too, and all, but that isn’t going to stop me from tossing your ass out of the ring,” he grinned cockily.

Lowering her stance, Meg beckoned him once, smile never faltering even as he charged full speed at her. At the last possible second, she stooped, sliding between his legs and landing one quick chop to the back of his right knee.

He twisted down to a kneeling position, grabbing her by the waist and pinning her. She squirmed, an annoyed and exhilarated groan escaping her lips. “You bastard,” she snarled, elbowing him hard in the ribs.

Michael didn’t let up, opting to take the hits while using his legs to solidify his position. “A countdown would be nice here!” he yelled at Lindsay and Gavin. “Not exactly easy keeping her like this.”

Taking advantage of his attention being directed at Lindsay and Gavin, she reached up, pressing a kiss to his lips as she hooked an ankle around his, and flipped their positions. “Oh baby, don’t tell me that worked?” she took a tone of false surprise.

“Hey, that’s not fair I want in,” Gavin joked, jumping into the ring and pecking a kiss to Meg’s cheek. She turned, returning the kiss to his lips as Michael made an exasperated sound underneath her. “Did you want in too, boi?”

Gavin crouched down, kissing Michael as Meg climbed off him and waved Lindsay over. “Cmere Lindsay I’m gonna smooch ya too,” Meg smiled and Lindsay may have forgotten to breathe for a second.

“Just because you modeled Harley Quinn, and my hair is red like Poison Ivy, doesn’t mean you have to put on a Brooklyn accent,” Lindsay said, sliding under the ropes and pulling Meg into her lap. While Meg was the embodiment of coy flirtation, Lindsay was patient and giving and it showed by how gently Lindsay cupped Meg’s cheek in her hand. Meg leaned in, smile shifting from self-assured in her sexuality to genuine adoration.

After some time trading kisses with their date mates, Gavin was the first to complain, “this is nice and all but can we continue after a shower?”

There was a collective chuckle as they all got up, still a little handsy and making eyes at each other. “Think we can get Geoff to let us borrow the big shower?” Michael asked, tossing Meg her shirt from the floor.

Lindsay brushed her fingers through her newly tangled hair. “I don’t think he wants us fucking in _his_ fuck shower,” she said.

“Shifts it is then; I call Turney,” Gavin wound a hand around Meg’s waist.

Michael snorted, picking Lindsay up bridal style. “Then Lindsay and I are going to start without you two,” he imitated Gavin’s Smug Face™.

Meg and Gavin shared a look before bursting into movement, not willing to be left out of the night’s later activities.


	6. Bar Fight (Jeremy/Michael/Gavin)

Against Michael’s better judgement, he listened to Gavin. Normally, any other member of the Fakes would brush off Gavin’s provocations, whispered suggestions that were invitingly poisonous. Being drunk did not fall into a normal situation, which is how Michael was persuaded to “deck the fool in the cowboy hat” as Gavin put it.

“AY,” the man shouted, white cowboy hat fluttering to the ground. “THE FUCK’S WRONG WITH YA?”

Michael was taken aback, either he didn’t punch as hard as he thought or the cowboy could actually take a hit. “FIGHT ME,” Michael shouted back, swaying on his feet slightly, but still utterly confident in his ability to wreck shop.

The stranger downed his shot in a second before picking his hat up and throwing himself at Michael. Despite his size, he was built like a linebacker and that’s how Michael wound up hitting his head on a table.

Rearing a fist back, Michael threw short punches at the man’s side. The man grunted in pain before returning the punches. Just as he reached to grab his pistol, there was a blur of movement and he found his wrist cuffed to the leg of a chair. “You don’t pull a gun in a fist fight, idiot,” Gavin sneered, his concern for Michael’s well being overshadowing his usual cocky attitude.

“I normally don’t get jumped,” the man grumbled, letting Michael roll out from under him. “Is this how people on the West Coast greet each other?”

Blood trickled down a scrape on Michael’s temple, sobering him up. Now that he could think clearly, there was a familiar accent in the stranger’s voice. “Ay, where ya from,” Michael squinted curiously at the cowboy.

“First tell me who the hell you guys are, then I’ll talk,” the man grumbled, trying to yank the handcuff off, to no avail.

“Well, my partner over there is named Michael,” Gavin interceded, giving Michael a warning look. Michael may be intelligent, but Gavin’s always had a way with words that could woo any secret out from anyone. “And I’m Gavin, from the Fake AH Crew.” Usually that kind of introduction would knock a Los Santos native off kilter, too familiar with the undying loyalty and the mercilessness associated with the gang.

But for the man, he simply looked perplexed. “I’m Jeremy, I don’t really have a crew, I guess,” he nodded at Michael. “But you sound a little familiar and it looks like I sound a little familiar to you too?”

Michael barked out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to remember you, Monster Truck,” he grinned.

A sudden realization dawned on Jeremy’s face before his eyes lit up and he said, “Jersey Devil?”

They shared a laugh, whooping and smiling and shouting “AY” at each other. If Gavin didn’t know any better, he’d have thought they were long lost brothers. “I’m going to uncuff you now,” Gavin stooped to undo the handcuffs while Michael helped Jeremy up.

“How’s that girl of yours, Michael?” Jeremy asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Wife now,” Michael beamed, all too happy to talk about his wife. “And this is my boi,” he gestured at Gavin.

Jeremy let out a hearty chuckle, clapping Gavin on the shoulder, which made him yelp. Gavin rubbed his shoulder, choosing his words carefully. “Maybe we can get some more drinks and catch up?” he offered.

…

There was a boom and a crash at the front door of the penthouse. Jack, who was currently in the kitchen trying to figure out what to eat for midnight snack, went to open the door when it flew open in her face.

“AAAAY,” Michael cheered, with a drunk Gavin and a drunk stranger slung over his shoulders. There was dried blood on his cheek and jacket and the stranger had bruised knuckles and the outline of a gun in his jacket.

Jack saw red as she rammed her forearm against the stranger’s throat, pinning him to the wall as she snarled in rage. She was not a small woman by any measure; she was fat and beautiful and strong. But for now, she was shaking with rage as she faced down the person who _hurt her boys_. “What the FUCK did you do,” she demanded, venom dripping from her words.

The stranger swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing under her forearm. He stammered out a couple words before Gavin hooked his arms around her waist and laid his chin on the top of her head. “Jaaaaaack,” he sing-songed, trying to defuse the situation. “He’s our new pal, Jeremy.”

“We’re keeping him!” Michael cheered before losing balance and slamming into the wall.

A calculating look came into Jack’s eyes as she slowly let Jeremy go, opting to help Michael up. “To the living room for Mario Kart,” Michael slurred out, grabbing Jeremy to drag him in.

Jack considered Jeremy, the way he took Michael’s arm immediately to help steady him and take the weight of Jack’s shoulders. The way he turned to make sure Gavin was plodding along too. The way he set Michael down so gently and let Gavin sit down first before taking the last spot on the sofa. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Jack, why did the boys kidnap a high schooler?” Ryan asked from the doorway of the kitchen, out of earshot of the living room where the lads were shouting.

Jack snorted, mixing her mug of hot chocolate while choosing her words carefully. “He’s Jeremy and I think he’s part of the crew now.”


	7. Bank Job Part I: My Shot (Jack/Geoff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been listening to Hamilton's My Shot for the last few hours
> 
> This is the first part of the Bank Job Arc!

Caught in some dream, Jack felt herself falling. Maybe there was sunlight on her back and she was midway through falling out of her plane. Maybe she stood on the precipice of immortality and took the jump to something greater. Her hand twitched and she was thrown into wakefulness.

The room was in the last stages of twilight, dark blue streaked with the beginnings of pink sunrise. Had she not been in Los Santos, she might have been able to see the stars and let them lull her to sleep. The sheets tangled around her legs like she’d been kicking around for a while.

Rolling over in bed, Jack searched for Geoff’s familiar warmth. Her hand ran over the spot Geoff usually occupied, a dent in the sheets that was already cold. “Geoff?” she asked, turning on her side to search for him. As her eyes scanned the room, she realized she was alone. “Geoff?” she called a little louder, getting up to look for him.

The penthouse was cold, forcing Jack to grab her robe as she descended the stairs to find her partner. A soft yellow glow was coming from a crack in the door to the heist room and no one would be in the heist room more than strictly necessary. ‘Unless it’s Geoff,’ Jack mused to herself.

Knocking softly on the door, she asked, “Geoff?”

“Jack, baby, why are you awake so early?” Geoff softly responded, opening the door for her and pecking a kiss on her cheek.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, sitting across the table from him. He stood with his shoulder hunched, leaning over the table and rereading some note or other. “What is all this?” Her eyes scanned the maps and intel reports and dossiers everywhere, looking for some sort of pattern that Geoff followed. Despite knowing him for now twelve years, she couldn’t begin to comprehend how his mind worked.

“I think I got it,” he murmured, more to himself than anything. “I know how we’re going to give back.” Jack made a questioning sound, still unsure of what he was talking about. Geoff finally slumped in his chair, rubbing his eyes and staring at the ceiling. Jack waited patiently; he would talk when he was ready.

Standing back up, he walked to the window overlooking Los Santos. They could see all the major buildings in the city from their perch in the penthouse. All the hard earned streets they bled on, all the civilian houses they defended. It was their kingdom.  
Geoff turned to face Jack just as the sun rose behind him. He was lit in morning light and Jack’s breath caught in her throat. Geoff’s clear blue eyes should have looked tired from staying up all night, but instead his eyes shined bright like stars.

“We’re going to burn this fucking city down.”

…

After insisting on staying up with Geoff to hash out the plan fully, Jack and Geoff were seated behind the heist room table with matching Mr. and Mrs. mugs of coffees. The crew members slowly staggered into the rooms with their breakfast of choice. “Who drank all the goddamn coffee?” Ryan asked, pulling up a chair and cradling his mug of tea with both hands.

Without breaking eye contact with Ryan, Jack sipped at her coffee until her mug was empty. Ryan scoffed, to which Jack let out a chuckle. “Alright, is everyone here?” she asked, mentally tallying up everyone they needed for the job.

“Mentally, no; physically, yes,” Jeremy groaned, wiping a hand down his face in an attempt wipe away the drowsiness.

“This better be the heist to end heists for the time you’re waking us up,” Gavin said.

“Quiet down and shut up,” Geoff said. “To answer your complaint, Gavin, yes. This should be the heist to end all heists.” The room quieted per his command. For all the jokes they make of Geoff, they utterly respect him and his goal. “Here’s the plan: we’re going to have four teams.”

Pointing at Jeremy, he revised his statement, “well, three teams and Jeremy. Jeremy’s his own team.”

“Hap hap,” Jeremy said.

“So first, we storm the castle,” Geoff began, circling the Maze Bank tower on the map behind him, “all in, guns blazing. Gavin,” he pointed, “you’re going to be in the field so make sure to set Jon up with as much info as you can so he can coordinate from the base.”

Snapping off a salute, Gavin said, “I’ll do it.”

Smiling fondly, Geoff continued, “Meg, Ryan; you two are going to be his baby sitters. Get him to the floor with all the computer terminals and make sure he stays alive.”

Meg snorted while Ryan chuckled next to her. “Sure, give us the hardest job,” Meg joked. She let out a laugh when Gavin scoffed in indignation.

“While you’re there, Gavin, I need you to run through all the financial documents you can. Copy what looks valuable for later, publish everything else,” Geoff said. “You’ll also have access to the online currency system; find out who the bank defrauded and give them back their dues.”

Gavin smirked. “Will do.”

“Security’s going to be all over him like ugly on dicks, so you two have to stay on him the entire time; it’s up to you to choose how,” he said, directing the order at Meg and Ryan. “But I don’t expect you guys to run into much trouble because Jeremy’s going to be bringing the thunder.”

Focusing his attention on Jeremy, he said, “do whatever you want, just make sure everyone’s attention is on you.”

Smiling broadly, Jeremy asked, “so I can bring a monster truck and various mini guns?”

“Bring a fucking turret, for all I care,” Geoff waved a hand flippantly. “Just keep the majority of the guards at the front door.

“Me, Jack, Michael, and Lindsay will be with you in the beginning, but we’re going to be breaking off in teams; that means you have to hold down the fort by yourself…”

There was a pause as Geoff let Jeremy think on it. “Can you handle that?” he asked anyway, wanting to be 100% sure Jeremy was comfortable with the plan.

“Hell yeah,” Jeremy’s face broke out into an excited grin. “The LSPD will learn to fear the wrath of RIMMY TIM.”

There was a chorus of ooooohs as everyone encouraged Jeremy. Geoff breathed out in relief. “Me and Jack,” he said, pointing between the two of them, “are going to head down to the vaults and take whatever we can. Cash, jewelry, gold, everything.”

“What are Michael and I going to do?” Lindsay asked, leaning forward in her chair eagerly.

“Great segway, Lindsay,” Geoff said. “You and Michael are on the demolitions team. After everyone gets out of the building, you’re going to blow it to kingdom come.” Michael beamed, already thinking of the amount of explosives it would take to tear down the illustrious Maze Bank. “Lindsay’s acting as bodyguard for you,” Geoff added, off-handedly.

“Wait, what?!” Michael interjected. “I’m going to die! Give me Meg and make Lindsay Gavin’s bodyguard!”

“Hey!” Lindsay said. “I can protect you from the guards.”

Michael blew out a frustrated breath. “Yeah, I know you will; what I’m worried about is you tripping and fucking shooting me in the leg by accident!”

“Lindsay might be your wife, but she’s also my heir, so give her more credit,” Geoff put his hands up placatingly. Lindsay glowed while Michael turned and apologized to her.

“If everything goes according to plan, then we should all be out of the building by the time Michael and Lindsay blow it. Pile in Jeremy’s monster truck and we ride off into the sunset like Robin Hoods.” Geoff spread his hands on the map, giving it a once over before nodding in determination. “Any questions?”

Everyone’s hands went up and Geoff slumped. “Are you fucking serious?”

…

“What’s wrong?” Geoff asked Jack after everyone wandered off to take care of what they needed to. “You were quiet all meeting.” Geoff took her in his arms, a worried expression on his face.

“I’m just in awe,” she replied, leaning into him. “We’ve been working towards this for a decade now.”

Geoff chuckled warmly and that stirred something in her heart. “Don’t be getting all old lady on me yet,” he teased lightly.

Jack laughed, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent. For once, he didn’t smell like alcohol, only the clean smell of shower and aftershave. “What’s the backup plan?” she asked after some time just enjoying each other’s presence.

Geoff stiffened for a moment, froze and unfroze so fast that Jack might have thought she was mistaken if she didn’t know him as well. She sighed, taking his face in her hands to look him in the eyes. “You don’t have a backup plan, do you?”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” Geoff muttered under his breath.

“Try again.”

“I will make a backup plan,” Geoff clarified.

Jack kissed him on the lips before turning out of his grasp and standing over the map. “Okay, so…”

…

Everyone’s pre-heist ritual was a little different.

Ryan went into the armory to double check all the weapons even if they weren’t strictly his or if they weren’t even expected to use it.

Gavin went through the intel one more time, taking notes on the essential points and printing out copies for everyone just in case.

Michael sat in the living room with as many schematics as possible, charting everyone’s paths, escape routes, backup paths.

Lindsay wandered the heist room, fingers tracing out every detail of the building while she mumbled the plan over to herself like a never ending mantra.

Meg raced across the rooftops of Los Santos, running last minute errands for any of her crewmates; she recited the plan over and over, steps never faltering.

Jeremy cleaned up his car, making space for the multitude of weapons he’d have to contend with. He hummed softly to himself, confident in his ability to rain hell and cause a distraction.

Jack and Geoff collapsed on their bed in exhaustion. They both were running on minimal amounts of sleep and, with their main plan, their backup plan, and their backup backup plan in mind, they cuddled up to each other. Geoff being the big spoon, tucked his chin on top of Jack’s head and she tangled their legs together.

“Time table,” she prompted, humming contentedly as Geoff peppered her hair with kisses.

“Mmm,” Geoff mused, “wake up at 5AM, leave penthouse at 6AM, hit the bank and fire fight until Team Turnfreewood is in position --”

“Turnfreewood? Is that the team name they chose?” Jack laughed softly.

“Yeah,” Geoff smiled, nosing through Jack’s curly red hair, “after they give us the go, you and I are heading down the the vaults. Take what we can and be on guard.”

Jack intertwined their fingers. “After that, we give Michael and Lindsay the signal and they go to the first floor as Team Turnfreewood evacuates and meets up with us,” Jack picked up where Geoff left off. “Once we’re all clear, they blow the building to hell and we grab them and make our escape to…?”

“Mount Chilliad, probably,” Geoff murmured, brushing Jack’s hair off her shoulders and leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. Jack sighed in approval, turning to kiss him. “Am I missing anything?” he asked after Jack turned to kiss his cheeks.

“If you are, I’ll handle it,” Jack said. “For now, let’s just catch up on sleep to be ready for tomorrow.”

“It’s 10PM, Jack,” Geoff said. “So you _are_ turning into an old woman!”

Elbowing him in the ribs, Jack said, “You’re seven years older than me, you old fuck.”

They shared a laugh before they got restless enough to get up and check on everyone _one more time_.


	8. Bank Job Part II: One Man Army (Jeremy)

Jeremy’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas, if that kid had the kind of arsenal to outfit a small army comfortably. Running a hand down the barrel of a minigun in the passenger seat, he slowly drove behind Michael and Lindsay’s nondescript car loaded with explosives. If he so much as dinged the bumper of that car, the entire street could go up in flames. His role in the plan was pretty much the same, despite other crew members making minor changes. All he had to do was provide cover fire and make sure they got out safely; the latter being the hardest part of any job ever.

“Team Turnfreewood is almost in position,” Jon’s voice came over the mic. “They entered the building and are currently making their way to the floor with terminals.”

“Thanks Jon, keep us updated,” Jack said, sitting in the cabin of the Mobile Operations Bus and doing last minute checks on all her weapons. She marvelled at the latest addition to the FAHC motor pool. It looked like a party bus on the outside, but the inside was a pristine white. It seated ten people, aside from the driver and passenger, and had floor to ceiling caches of weapons along all walls except for the back door. The central area had a mini bar as well as a turret sticking up and pointing to the back. Jack got out of her seat to check that all the drawers of weapons were unlocked for Jeremy later.

When she sat back down, she turned and saw Geoff staring out the window, scanning the streets like he was searching for something. He spent the ride to the bank in silence, which was unusual.

“You alright, Geoff?” Jeremy asked, slowing to a stop at the red light. He could barely make out Lindsay and Michael dancing in their car and he smiled to himself.

“Yeah, I’m just thinking,” Geoff said, not taking his eyes off the city outside the car.

“There’s a first for everything,” Ryan said, causing Geoff to let out an exasperated grunt mixed in with everyone else’s chuckles. “But really, Geoff, if something’s wrong, we can head back to the penthouse and do this another day.” There was a note of sincere worry in Ryan’s voice, no doubt he noticed Geoff’s mood as well.

“No, we do it today,” Geoff said, “let an old man have his quiet moments.” This earned a snort from Jack and a whispered coo of “dad Geoff is back” from Gavin. Geoff smiled, turning back to the interior of the cabin. He held Jack’s free hand in her lap and looked at Jeremy. “Almost there?” he asked.

“Almost there,” Jeremy confirmed. “Is Turnfreewood in position?”

“We’re on the 18th floor; computers are on 22,” Meg replied. There was a slight pant in her voice, probably from the stop-and-go running it took to sneak in. “If any of us were afraid of heights, we’d be screwed because all the walls are glass this high up.” She looked down and saw the ebb and flow of traffic in the city beneath them.

“Joke’s on you, I _am_ afraid of heights,” Jeremy said.

“We literally live in a penthouse,” Lindsay said. “How do you survive it?”

Pulling a face he knew she couldn’t see, Jeremy replied, “there’s a reason I chose the room with the least windows.”

There was a throaty chuckle, the kind of sound you heard in horror movies. In scenes with a lake house backdrop or abandoned hospital, you’d hear that kind of chuckle right behind you before the antagonist goes in for the kill. “We’re here,” Ryan murmured, making everyone’s hair stand on end. “There’s a few people at the computers, but Meg and I will handle them…”

“God, I fucking hate it when Ryan’s in Vagabond mode,” Michael said, turning down the music in his car. “We’re just around the block from the front entrance; Geoff, on your signal,” Michael idled in an alley near the Maze Bank. Jeremy’s bus pulled around it and Michael and Lindsay got in the back with all the weapons.

“Everyone ready?” Geoff asked. There were solemn nods all around and Gavin orally confirmed for his team. “Three, two, one...go.”

Two things happened at once: there were three muted gunshots over the comm and Jeremy floored it, screeching around the corner and crashing through the entrance to the bank; he managed to wedge the bus right in the front entrance. Everyone in the vehicle jolted before springing into action, grabbing their weapons and spreading out through the bank’s first floor.

They rained down bullets, Jeremy with a minigun pointed at the security entrances and Michael with a machine gun pointed in the general inside direction. “Give us all your money motherfuckers,” Michael shouted, letting a borderline maniacal laugh bubble out.

Jack and Geoff climbed to the second floor pavilion in synch, each with their own rifle for cover fire. A security guard rushed them, hand going for their pistol just as they got shot in the head and collapsed to the ground. “I got you, boss!” Lindsay yelled, holstering her sidearm and drawing a shotgun. She cut a path to the teller window with a flurry of shots from the shotgun; people dove out of the way as she swaggered up like nobody’s business. “Hey, I’m going to need to make a withdrawal,” she said, leaning on the counter as if it were a casual Tuesday at the bank.

“It’s the Fake AH Crew!” someone shouted.

Jeremy shot a few times in the general direction of the voice. He laughed loudly before bellowing, “IT’S RIMMY FUCKING TIM TIME.” He signalled Michael, who nodded in reply, before hopping back into the bus to pull up the turret. While Michael took care of the last few interior guards, Jeremy prepped the turret and began running bullets up and down the street outside. Officers dove for cover, occasionally taking wild potshots at Jeremy, who responded with more bullets.

“Status, Gavin,” Jack prompted, sniping someone who just turned the corner.

“Download is at 27%,” he responded. “Turney and Rye are patrolling the floor --”

“Gav--” Jon’s voice crackled and buzzed, “--guards above!”

There was a moment of confusion before Gavin yelped and his mic cut. Meg shouted for Gavin before her and Ryan’s comms were cut, too.

“Jack, go check,” Geoff said. He turned to Jack and looked her in the eyes. “I can handle the vault on my own,” he reassured her before she nodded and sprinted off to help Gavin.

“Geoff, I’m on my way up to you,” Lindsay began, already shouldering her shotgun in favor of a pistol.

“No, stick to the original plan,” Geoff said, firing a warning shot towards one of the bank tellers, “Michael’s going to need the protection more while setting up the explosives than me.” After a few more shots, Geoff emptied the clip of his rifle and drew his guns. “I’m heading in, you guys. If Gavin doesn’t come back online to give the signal, then I will tell you when to detonate.”

“Should I start setting the explosives now?” Michael asked, sweat dripping down his face.

Geoff considered it for a second; what if they could cut their losses and just get out now?

“Boss, I got this,” Jeremy said grimly, his voice muffled by the turret shots in the background. “Go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @lilred-fighting-hood on tumblr for more Achievement Hunter content


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